Winning Streak
by cgrimm54
Summary: Shepard is just like the rest of us.  Sometimes the stress gets to her.  This is what happens when her crew devises a plan to let her relieve that stress.  Of course, she may be a bit more stressed now than before...  Inspired by a loose story idea.


Author's Note:

This story was inspired by a few people (who will remain nameless to protect the not-so-innocent) on the FemShep Chat last night. I may have taken some liberties with the idea, but that's my right as a writer. Or maybe my write as a righter. Doesn't matter. I now present a Shepard one-shot. If you wanna review, go ahead. I appreciate reviews.

BioWare owns Mass Effect, its universe, and its Characters. I'm just writing there.

**Winning Streak**

* * *

><p>"All systems nominal, Jeff. The Normandy is performing well within operational parameters."<p>

"Thanks, EDI. I'm going to sleep now," said the helmsman of the most advanced ship in Council space, the Normandy SR2.

"Jeff, going to sleep is not going to fly the ship."

"Figure of speech, Mom," came the reply, as Joker pulled out his datapad and reclined his padded leather pilot's chair.

He had just barely navigated to the first page of the book he was reading when he felt a presence watching him. He looked directly up and nearly jumped out of his chair.

"Kasumi!"

"Hey there, jumpy," she said, dropping silently to the floor behind his chair.

"It's not like you give me a reason to be or anything…"

"Hush. You ever wanted to see the Commander naked?"

"Whaa...? Kasumi?" Joker stammered, blushing furiously at the deluge of mental images cascading through his head.

Kasumi giggled, then spun Joker's chair around to face her.

"I think she needs to loosen up. And I've got a plan."

* * *

><p>Shepard was having a bad day. The paperwork from the last three missions had piled up, and Miranda was sending her five e-mails a day requesting she finish it. To add to the list of problems, Grunt had head-butted the glass in his room, which meant opening the cargo hold and actually using the shuttle would explosively decompress the entire second deck. Not to mention the business with Garrus' old squad, Tali's upcoming trial, Jacob's father's distress call, and Thane's son being hired for an assassination. Shepard sat at her desk staring at the mountain of e-mail on her computer with barely restrained contempt. A sharp ping broke her death stare.<p>

"Shepard, Joker is requesting you on the bridge," said EDI over the speakers in the small lobby outside, the security systems in her room having long since been disabled.

_Probably complaining about the restrictions on his personal e-mail again…_

Shepard pushed her chair violently away from the desk and strode angrily to the elevator.

_I'll give him a piece of my mind. Some of the paperwork, too._

Shepard strode purposefully across the CIC, several datapads clutched in her hands, and a look of fire in her eyes.

"You have unread mess…" offered Kelly Chambers before trailing off under Shepard's glare.

When Shepard got to the bridge, she was even angrier, and practically threw the datapads at Joker.

"More jobs for me? Couldn't you just send an e-mail like every other person on this godforsaken ship?" she spat at him.

"Chill, Commander. I actually need to give you something. Something secret."

Shepard folded her arms impatiently, then snatched a small data drive from his hand.

"And this is?" She snapped irritably.

"Open it in your room. Get back to me. But don't use the e-mails. In person."

Shepard looked quizzically at the drive, then back to Joker, her anger evaporating into curiosity.

"Uh… right. Back to your station, Moreau."

"I'm already here, Commander," Joker said, motioning to his chair, which he was sitting in.

"Right. Well, then. I'll be back later."

As Shepard walked off, Kasumi decloaked from behind one of EDI's consoles.

"She really does need a break. This should be good." She said, rubbing her hands together.

* * *

><p>Shepard walked out of the elevator, wondering what the drive was holding. She looked over at her desk, where a flashing light indicated yet more unread mail. She stuck her tongue out and walked past it towards the couch built into one of the walls. She tapped on her omnitool, then loaded the data from the drive. A small progress bar popped on, filled, then all the lights in her room went out.<p>

Outside the door, Kasumi hacked the door shut and stepped silently into the elevator. There was work to be done.

Shepard stumbled through her now pitch black room, fumbling for the switch next to the fish tank. She found it after banging her shin painfully against her coffee table, knocking her old helmet off her desk, and sending the silvery Prothean sphere rolling under her bed. She stabbed at the small button, and the room was bathed in blue light.

_And this would be where having EDI in here would come in useful._

Shepard tried the door several times, even throwing her coffee table at it before finally giving up and collapsing onto her bed. The frame on her nightstand, currently blank, stared back at her in the dim light.

Downstairs, however, was a different story. Kasumi and Joker had rallied the crew together in the mess, as squeezing them all into the conference room would not have worked. A quick layout of the plan, and they all set to work.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, Shepard awoke suddenly to the lights snapping back on, nearly blinding her. She fell backwards off the bed and landed painfully on the sphere, which bounced off into another corner of the room. She got to her feet warily and approached the now-functional door. It snapped open and she sprinted through, driving her elbow directly into Grunt's armored chest.<p>

"Shepard, I would have expected that from Vorcha maybe, but not you."

Shepard cradled her arm, then followed Grunt into the elevator, noticing the Hawaiian shirt he was wearing over his armor.

"Uhh, should I ask about the shirt?"

"I have to wear it. You humans have such poor taste."

"I agree," Shepard said, making a face at the garish oranges and greens.

"It's not even armored. I couldn't fight a Maw in this!" Grunt whined, throwing his hands in the air.

The elevator door slid open on the third deck, and Shepard gawked. The room was lit with tiki torches and Jacob lounged against the bulkhead next to the elevator in a pair of swim trunks, sipping a martini. He nodded and tipped his drink at her. Kasumi, standing in the shadows nearby, suddenly grabbed Shepard's arm.

"How do you like it? I know I do!" she said enthusiastically, eyes straying towards the man in the trunks.

"So this was your plan? Lock me in my room so you could throw a party? You could have asked."

"And get chewed out for not doing paperwork? You need to relax. Come over here. Mordin's tending the bar!"

Shepard allowed Kasumi to lead her into the observation room, where Mordin was standing behind the bar, mixing drinks with the ease of a lifelong bartender. Kasumi disappeared back towards the elevator.

"Shepard!" he said, throwing a bottle into the air. "Never done this before! Interesting use of biochemical knowledge in combination with physics!"

He deftly caught the bottle and poured it on top of several layers of colored liquid in a glass on the counter, which he then swirled and slid to Garrus.

"I'd have told you sooner, but you wouldn't have believed me."

"Garrus, I…"

But then Shepard noticed both Kelly and Jack dancing on a makeshift stage at the other end of the room, surrounded by cheering members of the crew. She made her way through the line at the bar over to where Ken Donnelly from engineering was standing, looking very out of place in a kilt and plaid socks.

"Shepard! I was wondering when you'd get here! Gabby's getting drinks… I didn't get one for you…"

"It's fine, Donnelly. I can get my own."

But then a very drunk Zaeed Massani grabbed her from behind and began to drag her out to the mess.

"Hey!"

"It's time for skyllian five! Blue Suns style!" he slurred, his button-up shirt completely unbuttoned.

Shepard tried to protest, but she was dropped into a chair around the mess table, right between Tali and Joker.

"Shepard! This is so weird! I never drink, but here I am, drinking! Who would ever have guessed?" Tali shouted at her, a pouch of Quarian alcohol hanging from her faceplate.

Shepard turned to the table, to find Zaeed standing in the center.

"Rules are the same as regular five. Except when you lose a hand, you lose some clothes!" he shouted

Shepard tried to get up, but instead was handed several glasses of imported Batarian ale. Joker grabbed her arm.

"Oh no, Shep. You're staying right here."

* * *

><p>Shepard awoke the next morning with a huge headache. She lifted herself off the ground to find she was in the cargo bay. The floor was littered with confetti. It was at this moment she realized she was wearing nothing but a single plaid sock.<p>

_Shit._

She spun around, looking for something, anything to cover herself with, but aside from confetti and glasses, the floor was as bare as she was.

_Double shit._

Shepard looked across the room at the elevator, then made a motion with her hand. A blue aura enveloped her, and she shot across the room like a missile, halting in front of the elevator door. She hammered the call button as the elevator made its way down. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the door slid open and Miranda stepped out.

_Uh…_

Miranda was wearing her usual black catsuit, which looked downright conservative next to Shepard's sock. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Shepard stepped quickly into the elevator and shut the door, covering herself protectively. Miranda stood facing the elevator door for a full three minutes with her mouth open.

_If I'm lucky, I will get to my room without anyone else…_

The elevator door slid open at the crew deck, where Thane and Samara were standing, waiting for it. They both stared at Shepard, who stared back and jabbed the close button.

_Of all the people on this ship it had to be them… Well, at least Joker wasn't there._

The door slid open again, this time at the CIC. Kelly turned to greet Shepard, then blushed severely and walked stiffly towards the lab. Joker was standing at the Galaxy Map with his omnitool.

"Goddamn it, Joker if you take one single picture I will…"

But the rest of her threat was cut off by the door closing. Joker saved all twenty pictures to his extranet account and wiped them from the omnitool, then hobbled off to the bridge, grinning from ear to ear.

Shepard burst into her room and ran to her dresser, pulling on the first clothes she could find, a pair of Cerberus dress slacks and a shirt prominently featuring Blasto, the first Hanar Spectre. She ripped the single sock off and tossed it towards the bathroom, then fell face-first onto her bed.

_So much for decorum…_

It was a full three hours before Shepard got the nerve to come back down and even then she was a nervous wreck. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were puffy, Blasto topped off the whole ensemble.

"Commander, I have your… schedule for today," offered Kelly, suppressing a laugh.

Shepard made her way past the crew, who all made a noticeable effort to look the other direction and stomped across the deck towards the bridge. She stood behind the pilot's chair and glared at the top of the baseball cap protruding above the chair's back.

"I thought you'd never come down! It's good to see you, Shepard," said Joker with an air of innocence.

"I'm just here to give you your new orders, Moreau."

"New orders, ma'am?"

"The toilets are getting pretty filthy, Mr. Moreau. Gardner could use some help cleaning them."

"You're just putting me on toilet duty, Ma'am? That's rather forgiving of you."

"Toilet duty? No, Mr. Moreau. You are cleaning the entire ship. Starting with the toilets. Gardner has a mop and a bucket somewhere. And once you're done, you can file all my mission reports. Then, you will explain to Operative Lawson exactly what happened. I want your signed confession in triplicate sent to my inbox by 0900."

"But it's 0830…"

"You better start working."

Shepard walked off, obviously pleased with herself. As Joker turned back to his datapad, he finished attaching the video he took the night previous. Clicking send, he started into his confession, wondering just how much the editors of Fornax were going to pay.


End file.
